Last Sunday I schlepped myself home from a friend’s place at 5:41am. My “I’m going to have one drink!” night turned into a runaway — an outcome I rationalized as necessary coping coming off the heels of hands-down the most traumatic dating experience I’ve had in this city. My usual go-to of Jivamukti and Acoustic Covers just wasn’t going to cut it with this one, so I gave myself permission to help my friend clean out the dregs of his liquor cabinet (liquor shelf*), and we danced our way through an 80’s, 90’s and early 2000’s playlists respectively. Following a flash of lucidity in which I was reminded I’d prefer to wake up in my own bed, I congratulated myself for my responsible decision and embarked on the twenty-or-so minute stagger from The West Village to Flatiron
Read MoreLike most single people in New York, I both deplore and perpetuate the IRL version of The Bachelor that is dating in this city. I complain about the prevalence of sociopathy and erratic behavior, then date four people at once to titrate my feelings of vulnerability with a safety net of affection. I wake up feeling lonely one day or wishing someone (I were in love with) were lying next to me – then am inundated with friends’ and clients’ stories of infidelity, heartbreak and lost interest – and return to a place of skepticism about monogamy and relationship longevity
Read MoreI swear to God if there’s one thing that will make me willingly leave this city, it’s hearing another group of brilliant, inspiring women talk about their “need” to reach some arbitrary goal weight they’ve determined will be the impetus to their elusive self-acceptance.
Read MoreDid Sarah do something to her face? Check out her latest Insta, my friend Jasmine messaged to our group chat.
I clicked to Sarah’s most recent post and sure enough, her eyes were bigger, her face thinner, her skin smoother, her teeth whiter, her waist smaller.
Yes, Sarah had done something to her face. She had edited it.
Read MoreI was interviewed alongside some other badass experts on how to survive the holidays when recovering from an ED. Check it.
The Holidays are often said to be the most wonderful time of year. For many, it is a time to see loved ones, eat delicious food and celebrate the New Year. But for the 30 million Americans struggling with eating disorders, this time of year can be stressful and overwhelming.
For those in recovery from Anorexia, Binge Eating Disorder, Bulimia or other eating disorders– it is anything but easy. Whether someone is a year into stable recovery or 10 years into his or her process of healing, there are many components that can still make the holidays an ultimate challenge
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Read MoreYou may have caught my article, I’m Interested In You. That Doesn’t Mean I’m Trying To Have Sex With You a couple months back. Well, the brilliant Marcia Sirota, MD reached out to me to chat more about it on her podcast, Ruthless Compassion.
Listen in to hear the details of that experience, plus a time a a psychiatrist blamed a client’s suicide attempt on my appearance, and more. It’s relatively short in comparison to my usual diatribes, but make sure you don’t turn it off before my “call to action” after Marcia asks me where people can find me! It’s a simple yet powerful shift we can all make in our daily lives.
Read MoreI recently broke things off with a guy because I felt too vulnerable. I hadn’t experienced “those kind” of feelings for someone in ages, and it left me paralyzingly uncomfortable. Now look, a shit-ton of anxiety is a natural symptom of falling for someone, and feeling vulnerable in relationships is necessary; however this felt extreme. I tried to sit with the discomfort and “be cool,” chalking my distrust up to past betrayals or attachment issues. But something wasn’t right. My spidey-sense kept going OFF, so I honored my intuition and called it quits
Read MoreIt’s Sunday morning and I’m at City Bakery listening to Piano Ballads on Spotify. It’s unusually quiet here in contrast to the typical Manhattanite brunch-rush. There’s a trio of neon yoga gear-clad women sharing a confectioner’s sugar-dusted muffin in the corner, and one other MacBook-sheltered freelancer who’s been texting for the past nine minutes. I wonder if he knows about iMessage for his computer.
For a long time, I dreaded Sunday mornings as a single person
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